


Picket Fence

by thearchangelicdetectivetimelord



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Blackout Never Happened, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domesticity, F/M, Fluff, Jeremy is a matchmaker, M/M, Miles is not a dick, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1452475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearchangelicdetectivetimelord/pseuds/thearchangelicdetectivetimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Miles had hot whiskey eyes that he could get lost in, had a twist in his lips whenever he smiled, had hair he wanted to run his hands through while kissing him senseless, had skin he wanted to run his tongue over and mark, had a body he wanted to lose himself in, had arms he wanted to be held in, had a hand he wanted to hold out in public, but above all had a heart he wanted to love him back.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>In which the Blackout never happened, Bass pines over Miles for years on end and Miles is really oblivious (and not a dick, mostly.) <s>[So not canon.]</s></p>
            </blockquote>





	Picket Fence

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I had too much Miloe feels and I hate the Blackout and Miles was too much of a dick to Bass.
> 
> Title from Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy. Granted, those two words could be found everywhere but it was the song I was listening to half the time I was writing this. The other half was divided between these two fanmixes [here](http://lordjonsnow.tumblr.com/post/81907930256/like-autumn-leaves-a-playlist-for-friends/) and [here](http://lordjonsnow.tumblr.com/post/82294330071/behind-the-trigger-a-playlist-for-friends/).

Bass has a routine with Miles. Bass wakes up at seven, cooks them both breakfast, wakes Miles up, feeds Jason, their dog, have said breakfast together, changes and leaves to open up his bookstore. Sometimes, they meet for lunch, but they always have dinner together, whether it be Bass’ cooking, dining somewhere or take out. They’ve had this routine for the past 10 years ever since they’ve started living together. It felt only natural seeing as they shared bunks in the army and were practically in each other’s pockets since they were kids.

Of course there’s only one problem. Bass can't stand it. It's great to be so close to Miles everyday, and yet it's a fucking torture. This is only aggravated by the fact that Miles walks around the house shirtless half the time. Today was one of those times, he sees the tattoo, _their_ tattoo on his back, on his left shoulder blade and he wants so desperately to touch, to lick, to taste.

In addition, Miles had to keep himself fit, they both did. Which is why they had a mini home gym in one of the spare rooms. Miles is great at weight lifting and Bass can do one hand push ups but only with his right, seeing as his left shoulder couldn't be stressed out. They tend to exercise together more of than not, and at least three of the five weekdays and both weekends. But seeing Miles exercise shirtless just got him aroused, hot and bothered, he has all sorts of fantasies involving Miles, him and this very room. Grinding against Miles on the floor, fucking Miles on – into one of the exercise machines, getting fucked by Miles against the wall...

He bangs his head against the bookshelf, pulling himself away from the memory. He has books to stock and customers to serve. Connor, a jobless orphan who he had taken in 7 years ago, gives him a questioning look but Bass just shrugs it off before heading out back, pressing the heel of his hand against his hardening crotch, he really needs a drink.

Granted, he shouldn’t be drinking while working but hey, it’s his bookstore, he can do whatever he wants. Bass has had this place to call his since 8 years ago, and he likes his job. Hell, he used to love – still loves books ever since he was just kid. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea to name a few. Bass still can remember at least half of the lines in those books.

He appreciates the newer ones too, in fact he tries to read every fiction book that he has on sale. Well, those that he thinks he’ll like anyway. Bass spends many a night, staying up late just to read, trying to finish the book before the sun rises in the east. He can finish a five hundred page book in a few hours, and that’s a feat he had to learn to accomplish to get some sleep before a new day.

* * *

Miles works as a bodyguard and maybe that's why he gets all the girls. Even after he took a bullet for Bass back in the day, he’s still physically perfect, just a scar where the bullet used to be. Bass on the other hand, was not so lucky. One bullet during one of the tours in the sandbox, and his shoulder was never the same since. That was one of reasons he hired Connor, he was strong and could carry the heavier boxes that he couldn’t, and besides he was easy on the eyes. Sure Bass sometimes works part time at the same company as Miles, if only to chase that sense of thrill that the army had left him craving sometimes. Truth be told, he knew he wasn’t going to be a very good bodyguard if he was paired up with his best friend because he would be protecting Miles more than the potential target, not that Miles couldn’t handle himself but it’s already been ingrained into his brain and heart. Bass didn’t lose Miles in Iraq and he wasn’t going to lose him now.

* * *

Charlie comes by the bookstore at least once a week, and because she’s practically his niece she gets a huge discount. They talk about their favourite books and the ones they’ve just read. They recommend books to each other and it seems like he taught her well, for even though their favourite genre is medieval fantasy, (it’s hardly close to civil war but it’s still fantastic,) they’re both really open to the others. She likes, loves books, but lately Bass notices coming to his store has been less about books but rather more about seeing Connor. Charlie's talking to him less and it’s okay with him. Charlie and Connor both have a love for books so he’s perfectly fine with it. In fact the ex-Marine goes so far as to encourage it.

He sits Charlie down one day when Connor’s on leave and tells her, “Go for it, hell, you talk to him more than you do to me nowadays.”

She gives a sheepish smile before rearing this whole thing back on him, “Well, you know you’ll really be my uncle by law if you would just marry Miles by now.”

“We’re not talking about that lady, he’ll hate me. Or worst kill me if I even so much as suggest it.” Bass shudders at the thought, but Miles probably wouldn’t kill him, hate him maybe.

“He could never hate you. You’re his family, like you are mine.” At times like these he’s thankful for Charlie, and for the fact that at least another Matheson loves him like Miles does. (Rachel and Ben like him most of the time, except when he gets Miles into some wacky stuff, but it’s more often Bass following Miles than the other way around.) He hugs her tightly, and vows to keep her safe for as long as he lives.

Of course, he has the same conversation with Connor. With his luck, the second he so much as mentions Charlie and to not lose the chance of a lifetime, Connor just gives him a pointed look and talks about Miles instead. Bass loves the kid, would have adopted him if he could, but at times like these he wants to strangle him. Why do youngsters like to target him so? He counters with the _"hurt her and I hurt you"_ shovel talk. Connor, knowing him, rolls his eyes at Bass, but yet at the same time knows better than to cross an ex-Marine, or two in the case of both Bass and Miles.

* * *

Miles brings Charlie to the bookstore, turning the gas off before walking through the door.

“Uncle Bass!” She reaches over to hug him the second she's in the store and he returns her embrace. "I'm here to take Connor out, you should do the same and make a move on Miles." He hears in his ear before they both let go.

"Come on!" Charlie calls Connor over and drags him out by his hand.

"You don't have to pull my hand Charlie." Connor follows her, fond annoyance in his voice.

“Have fun on your date.” Bass calls out, hoping they heard.

“You too!" She calls back and Bass blushes red, and curses his niece under his breath.

He sighs. Young love. He remembers when he was young and in love. Now, he’s over forty and still in love with the same person. He can get Charlie and Connor together but he can't move an inch to try to get himself and Miles together.

* * *

Miles brings him to restaurant that's a bit out of way. Apparently he had reservations for the both of them for dinner.

"Well this is fancy." _Like a date._ Bass' mind whispered.

Miles just smiles at him like he has a secret he's about to share, but not quite yet.

They order their dinner, they eat and talk. It's during one of the topics about Thanksgiving with the Mathesons and they've just polished off their plates when Miles keeps looking around and goes all fidgety and Bass' heart is full of hope. Miles' strange behavior manages to stop the questions in his mouth.

"Happy birthday Bass." Miles smiles blindingly when a small Coconut cake is delivered to their table. He didn't know whether to be touched that Miles remembered when he forgot his own birthday, or to be disappointed that it wasn't a date, and that Miles wasn't going to do the thing he wanted so desperately for Miles to do, confess his love.

"I had a feeling you forgotten it again." Miles explains, seeing the shock written all over his face.

Bass recovers quickly and points to the cake, "You're never going to let me live that down are you?"

"Nope!" And Bass can't help but laugh with his best friend, all awkward tension removed in a blink of eye.

* * *

Bass gets totally wasted on that fateful day where the Monroes were reduced from five to one. It still hurts, it’ll _always_ hurt but at least he has Miles by his side.

"You're my brother. I'm here for you.” Miles whispers softly, his thigh a warm comfort on a bleak day that is today, his own hand with a beer bottle of his own.

There in was the crux of the problem. Miles has always seen him as a brother. He was destined to love him from a far. To watch Miles with other people, Emma, Rachel, Nora. He's watched all of them come and go, and he's still here by Miles' side. It should be enough but it isn't.

The closest he ever got to touching Miles was the so called _'aborted threesome'_. Hell, he didn't even want to go to the bar to pick anyone up that day. He didn't want to have sex with anyone that wasn't Miles, he tried that once (or twice) with Jeremy but it didn't work out, (to be fair, Miles had caught them once and that had been _awkward_ ). But Miles, Miles had been insistent, he had prodded and bribed him with free whiskey. And then this redhead at the bar tried to pick them both up, Miles had jumped on the opportunity and Bass was wounded that Miles could unknowingly hurt him by suggesting that. But then he realised that that it was the only time he would have been able to touch Miles like that, to see Miles undone, naked and wrecked. So there they were in the corridor of some random motel, and the redhead, Lydia, was kissing his lips, jaw and neck while Miles was attacking the back of hers while removing her clothes. He had reached out to grab anything for purchase and he grabbed Miles' hair. Bass almost moaned Miles' name. Yet, Miles seemed completely unfazed. He couldn't go through with it in the end. That night, in the confines of his own room, he jerked off, all the while wishing it was Miles' hands on him, wishing it was him with Miles in bed instead of Lydia. He proceeded to drink himself to sleep after that.

* * *

At fifteen, Bass learnt that there would never be anyone more important in his life than Miles Matheson. Except possibly his family, but looked how that turned out. At seventeen, he knew that he was completely and unconditionally in love with his best friend. At twenty two, he learnt that he didn't care if people knew that he preferred guys over girls, except while in the army (until DADT was revoked of course). At twenty eight, Miles became the only family he had left. At twenty nine, he dated a really sweet guy named Scott, but he called it off after a month because it wasn't fair to Scott that Bass was still in love with another man.

To Bass, Miles was sand and deserts, guns and bullets and Iraq. Miles was baseball and fake gunfights around the neighbourhood. Miles was scraped knees and climbing trees, sleepovers and late nights without sleep. Miles was camping in the woods and playing cards and reading in the dark. Miles was elementary, high school, college all wrapped into one. Miles was his first drink and his heart. Miles was the sun. Miles was his picket fence.

* * *

"You ever gonna tell him?" Jeremy asks when they’re on one of their meet ups. Jeremy's one of their mates, a great friend from back when we were both Marines, now he works with Miles. Bass has had on occasion told Jeremy to protect Miles while they were on jobs together. He hadn’t disappointed.

"Tell him what?” Bass replies, playing coy. He knows what Jeremy’s hinting at, he’d probably known since that night Miles walked in them together. Jeremy hadn’t said anything since then but he figured something has changed for him to bring it up. Bass groans internally, lunch wasn’t a good enough incentive to have this conversation.

"That you love him.” His friend replies easily, like it was a fact. And it is.

"I told him, I told him so many times. Of course I love him, I'm his brother.”

"Don't play dumb with me. I can see it in your eyes, even way way back when we were on tour together. I'm not as dense as he is.” Jeremy says exasperatedly, obviously tired of Bass’ bullshit. “You should tell him, before you both regret it.” Is he really that transparent? It seems like everyone knows, _everyone but Miles_. It’s either Miles is really oblivious or he had been willfully ignoring it. He doesn’t know which option is worse, but he does know which one hurts him more.

* * *

Bass was twenty seven when he and Miles were both completely drunk. It had been a contest to see who could hold out longer than the other. They matched each other drink for drink until they lost count of the number of shots that they had both consumed.

He didn’t remember most of the night, but the only thing he did was that he had kissed Miles and then they passed out before Miles even returned it. Miles didn’t remember it the next day and Bass wasn’t ever going to bring it up.

* * *

Miles comes home with a smile on his face. That usually means one of three things: one, he got his pay or a pay raise; two, he has something for Bass, Connor or Jason, or three, he found someone.

“Out with it. What’s got your face frozen in a smile?” Bass asks, fearful of the answer, but a smile on his own face all the same.

“Nothing really,” But he can’t keep the grin off his face. Miles pauses, before sobering, “But I’m not having dinner tomorrow, it’s just a date with Maggie.”

 _Oh._ Turns out that’s what Jeremy meant, because it was someone from their company, someone they all knew and it was what Jeremy was warning him about.

Miles introduces him to Maggie, one night when he brought her home for dinner. They vaguely knew each other from the splatterings of jobs that Bass took at the company. She is a receptionist at the building of the bodyguard company they work at. Maggie had complemented his cooking, to which Bass replied that someone in their house had to cook for the both of them. God knows what would happen if he so much as let Miles near the stove. Burn the whole house down probably.

* * *

Miles has a life outside him, but it seems to Bass that his whole world revolves around Miles. Everyone always leaves him in the end, it was just a matter of time before Miles left him too. He figured he rather leave first.

"I'm moving out." Bass declares one day over breakfast, eyes looking at the toast he was spreading. He had been thinking it over for months, deciding whether he should even have thought of the idea in the first place. He can't bear to look at Miles right now. Miles would never look at him the way he did Nora, or now Maggie. He figured needed to carve a life for himself without Miles Matheson.

"What?” Miles’ shock causes him to raise his head up, to look at Miles as he asks, “Why?" There's hurt and betrayal on his face, raw emotions Bass has learnt all too well to mask from Miles.

"Let's be real, Miles, sooner or later, you'll find someone, _have found_ someone, and you'll settle down somewhere. Here's as good as any. Besides you bought the place. I just furnished it. ’Sides, I’m not moving out now, I’m just telling you that I would.”

“Bass, hey. This is our place. And that’s not going to change. If it ever comes to that I should be the one to get a new house.” Miles, ever the rationalist, tries for diplomacy.

“You just don’t get it do you? This,” Bass gestures between them, frustrated at himself or at Miles he doesn't know, “This isn’t healthy. Ever heard of a thing called codependency? Yeah, well this is what this is.” He didn’t want to explain why it was codependency, or the real reason he needed to leave, in fact he didn’t want to start a fight with Miles even though he was the only one raising his voice. Bass just forgets about the breakfast and leaves for work, leaving Miles dumbfounded at their kitchen table.

He doesn’t come home that night.

* * *

Months past, they don’t talk about it at all and Miles and Maggie go their separate ways. Bass still hasn’t even started packing, he said he would but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He sleeps outside, in motel rooms alone, some nights. Miles and Bass have gotten a semblance of their formal routine back but there’s an awkward vibe around them that they never mention.

“You think maybe the reason why all your relationships never work out is because you haven’t found the right person yet?” Jeremy asks Miles over beer one day, he knows his friend is almost done with moping over Maggie.

“If you were anyone right now I would punch you.” Miles replies without heat.

“Well, anyone except Charlie, or Bass for that matter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

“Nothing. But just think about what I said.” Jeremy smirks before he takes another swig of his beer and that was the end of the conversation. He turns his head back to the television to continue watching the game, and Miles just shakes his head, and follows suit. It doesn’t seem like Jeremy was suggesting anything between himself and Miles, or Miles and Charlie, or Bass for that matter.

* * *

Miles had hot whiskey eyes that he could get lost in, had a twist in his lips whenever he smiled, had hair he wanted to run his hands through while kissing him senseless, had skin he wanted to run his tongue over and mark, had a body he wanted to lose himself in, had arms he wanted to be held in, had a hand he wanted to hold out in public, but above all had a heart he wanted to love him back.

* * *

Bass comes home for the bookstore to find dinner prepared by Miles. Bass wonders how he managed not to set anything on fire. He knows it’s an apology from Miles but Bass should have been the one apologising instead. It’s his favourite, spaghetti and meatballs with a serving of salad vegetables to boot.

“We good?” Miles asks as they settle in their seats.

“Yeah, we’re good.” He smiles, getting one in return and digs into the food. It’s surprisingly tasty, delicious and not over cooked. Bass manages to get a second helping, while cleaning the sauce off his plate when that’s in his stomach too.

After, while they’re on the couch watching a re-run of some thriller film Miles confesses, “I actually bought it because I ruined the sauce. And the meatballs.” There’s a pause, and Bass can tell Miles isn’t finished but he’s already going to lose it. “And the pasta” sets him off and Bass laughs loud and carefree and smiles at Miles fondly. “I knew it!” he exclaims, reaching to thumb at the picture of the two of them in his wallet, like a lifeline. They’re scarily domestic and Bass wouldn’t have it any other way because Bass will always love Miles. “At least you didn’t ruin the salad.” They leave it at that and end up washing the dishes together.

* * *

They’re on a job together, protecting a prominent client, a weapons manufacturer named Mr. Stark. Naturally that meant that a lot of people wanted him dead. Miles figured it would be like any other job like those with the politicians and richer people. Oh how wrong he was.

The job was simple, escort him into the courthouse and then later escort him back to his house. Apparently there was some controversial issue regarding the weapons contract. There’s a rally outside the courthouse, with those against Mr. Stark seeming on one side, and those supporting him on the other, with barricades and police and security in between them. Press and paparazzi swarming the car and the front of the courthouse.

Bass is by Miles' side, flanking Mr. Stark’s left when he leaves the car, while two other bodyguards flank the weapons manufacturer’s right. They’re instantly mobbed by the cameras and reporters, and with help of the security, manages to push pass them. They don’t need to manhandle people that they don’t have to.

The trek to the steps and the door of the courthouse went rather uneventfully all things considered. Jeremy is there at the entrance and they escort the man in question into one of the courtrooms.

“Phew, that wasn’t too bad.” Miles states while they’re outside and waiting for the whole procedure to be over so that they can escort the man back out and home.

“Don’t count on it yet. The verdict could set either side of the mob off.” Bass warns but gives both him and Jeremy some water.

Turns out it takes a few hours for the whole deal to be done with and for everything to be settled. Jeremy, Bass and him catch up and reminisce about old times. It’s when they're exiting the courthouse that all hell breaks loose. One minute, they’re moving through the barricades and crowds and the next Bass is pushing Miles out of the way and a gunshot goes off. The crowd turns into panic and becomes more disorganised, running in every direction. Mr. Stark immediately ducks, and Jeremy and the rest of the bodyguards swarm him and try to get him out. Miles is on the floor, with Bass, and his hands on a wound on the side of stomach, a wound that Bass took for Miles. It’s bleeding crimson red and his hands aren’t doing too much stem the flow of blood. Miles doesn’t know what to do, instinct telling him to scan for the attackers or snipers, protect people, yet his mind and heart knows what it wants.

Bass would win any of those decisions, Bass is more important to him than his own life. “Bass!” He shouts over the racket, scrambling to his brother, “You idiot.” Miles reaches down to apply pressure on the wound, unable to bear Bass’ scream of pain.

“Hey, only fair I return the favour." Bass says, coughing blood, referring to years back, when roles were reserved. "Go Miles, you need to go."

"Not without you. If you're dying, I'm dying with you." Miles repeats the words Bass had said to him in Iraq. Bass thinks he’s crying, his cheeks are wet, but he doesn’t know for sure, everything is a bit fuzzy. Vaguely, he sees Miles reaching for his phone to call for the ambulance. Bass figures now’s a good time as any. If he dies, at least Miles knows that –

“I love you.” He rasps out, cough threatening to break the sentence.

“I love you too.” Miles replies without thought, tears in his own eyes, and Bass has to shake his head. _‘Not like that’_ , Bass wants to say but he’s weak and he’s tired and his eyes are closing.

“No, I mean... I… I’m in love you.” Bass breathes out, and closes his eyes. He really needs the rest.

“I… I… Damn it Bass, stay awake!” Shock is in Miles’ voice, which meant he wasn’t expecting any of it, which meant that Miles didn’t – His consciousness fades to black.

* * *

Bass comes to with the beeping of machines in his ear and the smell of antiseptic assaulting his nose. He doesn’t even want to open his eyes to the blinding light that’s already piercing through his eyelids. But he has to know if Miles is okay. Gathering the strength, Bass blinks his eyes open slowly but squeezes them shut instantly. You’d think by now hospitals learnt to dim the lights for their patients. Bass tries again, this time continuously blinking them to get his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He turns his head steadily to the left, and Miles is there, and real and alive, and asleep on the chair beside his bed.

He heaves a sigh of relief and turns his body in an attempt to reach for a cup of water, mouth parched. Pain courses through his body, centring around his lower abdomen. Bass groans aloud, stilling when hears Miles awaken.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He coughs out, wincing at the pain and discomfort. Reluctant to approach Miles with _that_ topic, that maybe that they can ignore what he said the way Miles forgot about the drunken kiss, that they could put it down to a near death experience and move on, Bass opts for an easy question, “How… how long was I out?”

“Hey Bass, Almost a day… How you feeling?” Miles’ eyebrows are full of concern but his smile is dazzling, and Bass gives him a loopy one in return. Bass knows Miles probably hasn’t left his side or eaten, getting a meagre few hours of sleep if the worn out tired face and rumpled clothes are anything to go by.

“Been better. You’ll probably lose your job though, and get sued, ignoring the client.”

“Mr. Stark is fine, Jeremy got him out, I’m fine, got the bastard who shot you. You’re not.” Miles reaches over wanting to touch the Bass’ abs, but settles for his bicep instead. “I almost lost you… What would I do without you?” He whispers, more to himself than to Bass, fingers caressing the skin under his fingertips.

Bass just turns to face him and Miles is moving towards him. Miles places both hands on either side of his best friend’s face and leans in to rest his forehead on Bass’ before pressing his lips to Bass’ own to kiss him. All Bass can think of in that moment was _“Miles”_ and _“Finally”_.

As they break away from that soft and tender kiss, Bass’ hands having shifted to the back of Miles’ neck, Bass replies against his lips, “You’ll never find out,” before he leans in again this time.

* * *

At three, Bass learnt that Miles was going to be his friend. At seven, Bass knew that Miles was his best friend and he was Miles’. At twenty eight, Miles had stopped him from taking his own life, had gave him reason to keep living. At thirty two, Bass almost lost his life but Miles took a bullet for him. He still got hit in the shoulder in the end but it was the thought that counted. He had been honorably discharged and with him, Miles too, for they were never apart. At thirty five, Bass knew that no matter how much he loved books and poetry and words and chapters and pages bound in leather and cardboard and cloth, he could never love them more than he loved his brother. At forty three, Bass finally got kissed by the love of his life and that he could finally do the same without reservation. At forty three, even though they had a lot to talk about and years to catch up on, years _wasted_ , Bass knew without a shadow of doubt that he was Miles’ and Miles was his.

Miles was taking bullets for each other, taking care of each other, saving each other and loving each other. Miles was raising Jason, and living together. Miles was taking Charlie and Connor out and loving them as if they were their own kids. Miles was family and Miles was home. Miles was best friends through thick and thin, through sand and dust, deserts and trees, through houses and dogs and past relationships. Miles was a bright shining star. Miles was his heart and his love. And Miles was – is his picket fence.


End file.
